


Fine

by ScarletteStar1



Series: Attraction Redaction [4]
Category: Homeland
Genre: Aftercare, Daddy Kink, F/M, Neediness, Older Man/Younger Woman, Sensory Deprivation, Shower Sex, Spanking, blind folds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 18:41:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30127170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletteStar1/pseuds/ScarletteStar1
Summary: Carrie's fine. She doesn't need it.She just wants it.
Relationships: Saul Berenson/Carrie Matthison
Series: Attraction Redaction [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2212269
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	Fine

Another hotel room. Another city. Another complicated operation. Another long wait.

She’d been antsy all afternoon and now she was crawling out of her skin. She’d told herself she wasn’t going to do it anymore. She wasn’t going to ask him for it. She’d be fine. She didn’t need it. She could find other ways, take her meds, go running, drink, take burning or freezing showers. But the moment she looked at him, her resolve drifted, nothing more than a little puff of fluff in a gale force wind.

He stood by the window, hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels, a bemused expression on his face. She hated how he read her like a fucking book.

“You okay, Carrie?” He asked. His concern was genuine at least. “Cuz I need your head in the game here.”

“I’m fine,” she snapped.

“You need anything?”

“I said I’m fine.”

“Oh,” he nodded. He knew better. Didn’t he always know better. His chin jutted at the ceiling as he took a breath. “Just say the word, Kid,” he shrugged. Like he could have cared less. Like he didn’t get anything from it. Like he didn’t want it just as much as she did. Like he didn’t fucking crave it the second they were alone.

No. She could resist. She poured another drink and strutted away from him as she sipped. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you.”

“Eh, either way,” he said nonchalantly. He looked out the window for a moment, then contemplated the room service menu. Carrie’s eyes narrowed as she drained her glass. He knew. He fucking knew the effect ignoring her had. “You hungry?” He asked. She lunged at him. In an instant, she was across the room, her hand open ready to slap or scratch or punch any fucking part of him she could. He caught her wrist easily, as she knew he would. For a moment, they regarded one another, breathing tight and heavy in tandem. He licked his lower lip with his wet, pink tongue and said, “Easy, Kid.”

Her other hand came up and he caught that one too.

“I fucking hate when you call me Kid,” she hissed.

“No you don’t,” he said calmly. He held her wrists at her sides. His grip was loose enough she could have broken free, but she didn’t. “What’s it gonna be, Kid?”

She flipped through her options, the menu of depravity that would numb her mind and free her soul. His fingers fondled the insides of her wrists as if he took her pulse, which raced while his stayed perfectly steady. His insouciance enraged her. She wanted to break him, torture him like a prisoner, and put him back together the way she wanted. His glasses were a false wall between her and his eyes. She wrangled her hands free and brought them to his face, removed his glasses and searched the glittering amber of his countenance. She felt him shiver and her mouth opened involuntarily in a little laugh.

“Shower,” she said. Intrigue flickered over his features. And then they were both imagining slick, wet slaps echoing off all the white porcelain like an acoustic distortion. And she knew she’d already made him hard. And it made her grin.

“Go on, get in, and face the wall,” he said, his eyes already half closed. “Make the water hot.” As she walked past him, she handed his glasses back to him. She did exactly as he asked and waited in the steaming spray. His presence behind her did not startle, but she was surprised by the scarf he slipped over her eyes. For a moment, she bucked. She’d never liked being hooded, but he pressed his body against her, shushed her, and tied the scarf at the back of her head. “That’s it. That’s right,” he whispered. Her knees quivered, but he anticipated this and caught her around her waist, held her fast. He was hard on her lower back, and his hands were firm on her hips. For long moments, he just pressed her deeply against him. She started to float. He squeezed her body and everything left her, like she was nothing more than a tube of paint he could wring out and wash down the drain. In the darkness, she simply stopped knowing anything. That alone would have been enough, but then he whispered, “How many?” and bit her earlobe.

It was the question that always made her whimper and gush. _Fuck_ , he knew it too. The way he asked in that gravely, gruff voice that vibrated through her entire body. In the darkness, her mind was already fuzzy with relief. She wouldn’t need much, but another part of her prickled with rebellion and boldly said, “Twenty.”

She felt him swallow.

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“You know the word if it’s too much. Promise you’ll use it.”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he said and didn’t waste a moment giving her the first three slaps, hard and fast on her right ass cheek. Her legs buckled a little at the surprise of it. Usually he started easier with her, but tonight he dove right in. He moved her to the back of the tub. “Bend over and hold your ankles. Good girl,” he said. She was small enough so he still had room to wind up and smack her good and hard, alternating now across each cheek. When he got to ten, he stopped and she couldn’t tell exactly what he was doing. But then she felt his hands, slick with soap, gliding over the curves of her bum, rubbing the sensitive skin and easing the glowing burn. She waited patiently for the little flick of his fingers in between her legs, and then it was all she could feel, the tingling need of her clit as he teased it.

But she still had ten to go. The next two were lighter, and in between, he worked her wet slit with his thumb. When she tried to push back onto his fingers, he spanked her hard, _really hard_ , three more times. “Five more to go,” he growled and stroked into her folds, pressing at her opening as if to torment her. She moaned. “You still want them?”

“Ye- yessss,” she whimpered and heard him grunt appreciatively. She wasn’t sure she even felt the last five strokes. She was flying someplace dark. She was swirling into something hot and dripping and completely sweet. Her mind buzzed. She was in a hive. Her mouth was full of honey. It was so delicious and good. It was black and small and tight and she was safe and free. “Fuck oh fuck oh yes, Saul. _God yes_ ,” she cried because he had her up in his arms and she was on his cock and he was fucking her fully, her legs wrapped around his waist. He could do this, couldn’t he? He knew. He always knew. How did she ever doubt him? With the blindfold on, she couldn’t tell if she was wet from the shower or her tears, but she sought his mouth and filled it with her tongue. _This_ was new. She clung to him and her tongue washed over and over his as his fingers dug in the flesh of her ass and his cock thrust into her cunt and made her cum until she was completely limp.

Later, he laid her in the bed and brought her a bottle of water. “Have something to drink,” he said and pinched her chin. She took the bottle and had a long sip. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said and smiled weakly to assure him.

“Yeah, you are,” he chuckled. He stretched out on the bed beside her and sighed heavily. “We should get a little rest.”

She curled into him.

She didn’t need to do these things. She wanted to. She’d be fine. She’d find other ways and give it all up another time.

In another hotel room. Another city. Another complicated operation. Another long wait.

**Author's Note:**

> I know people are shy to leave kudos and comments on kinky stuff, but if you enjoyed it, do feel free to check in. I try to chat with everyone. . . xoxoxo.


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